


One Hell of a Migraine

by WonderAvian



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderAvian/pseuds/WonderAvian
Summary: Alan's head hurts.Originally posted on tumblr January 17th 2017.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	One Hell of a Migraine

Alan’s feet are dragging.

They’re going to leave marks in the polished wood floor but, he finds himself not caring. He doesn’t care about anything at all really, anymore. He’s just so…

Sad.

Outside, the sun is shining, but inside his head, the world is clouded, dark and grey. Lightning flashes and thunder crashes, and he flinches, turning his head to the side as his heartbeat thumps loudly in his ears.

It's one hell of a migraine, only made worse by the ongoing storm in his head and the heat of the mid-summer day.

Ow. He’s sluggish, tired. And he isn’t hungry either. He hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning, and it’s the late afternoon now. Just where had the time gone? He doesn’t know. Did anyone notice he was upset?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think they did.

He knows he should do something but his mind is full of static.

Surely this will pass?

No. _No_ , he can’t do it. He _won’t._

Alan blinks. He’s been looking down the whole time as he shuffled his way through the house, and now he finds himself standing outside someone’s bedroom door. That would be fine, as he was intending to go to his room to lie down on the floor and continue to just lie there, but. This isn’t his room he is standing at now.

Damn his feet for taking him to the place he didn’t most certainly did not want to go.

And worse. There is a pair of shoes facing his.

Scott. It has to be.

Well. This is bad. He doesn’t want to be caught moping about with a bad migraine. Too late to move now though.

He looks up.

“Oh. Hi, Scott.”

Scott is smiling. Or rather, he was, for just a split second. It falls from his face like water slides down a car window on a rainy day.

Too bad the rain is all in Alan’s head. He could use something cool against his skull right now.

Scott places a hand on Alan’s shoulder, and his eyes narrow in concern.

“Alan? Where does it hurt?”

Oh.He knows. Or at least, he can see his little brother is in pain.

Alan finds his resolve to solve this on his own crumbling. His head hurts too much to bear, and he finds his hidden feelings finally betraying him, and his eyes fill with long unshed tears.

“Head… hurts. More like a migraine actually,” Alan mumbles, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from spilling. He brings a hand up to wipe them away. He winces as the pain flares. He feels as if he’s going to faint.

Scott sees this. He sees all of this.

He picks Alan up in his arms, gentle not to jostle him. No need to make things worse than they already are.

Alan curls up into a ball, burying his head in his older brother’s chest. He whimpers in pain and grabs fistfuls of Scott’s shirt, holding on tight as they descend the flight of stairs to the infirmary.

_I’m scared, Scotty._

He feels that he is acting like a child, but the fact remains that he still _is_ one. Any adult would be the same, but Alan doesn’t know that. Everyone else in his world is perfect.

And he’s… not.

Scott boots open the door and strides into the room. He gently places Alan on the bed, making sure little brother is OK before he starts rifling through drawers, and at the same time calls for Virgil.

Alan watches blearily as Scott sets up an IV. Alan stares, barely comprehending what he is seeing. _Does he really need that?_

Virgil is there suddenly, and he gives Alan a quick once-over, saying something supposedly comforting in Alan’s ear which the boy does not hear, at all, yet Alan still finds himself calming down, if only slightly. And then, he is gone, out of Alan’s view, blurry as it is.

And then Scott is there in the medic’s place, pushing Alan back onto the pillows, urging the young astronaut to _rest, calm down, take it easy. It’s going to be alright._ He smooths Alan’s light, downy hair back, even now as it is slick with sweat. Scott continues to lightly draw circles in Alan’s temples with his thumb.

Alan opens and closes his eyes, leaning into his older brother’s touch.

He’s woozy. He’s out of it. It’s what happens when he strains himself for too long.

Scott knows that. They _all_ know that.

Alan doesn’t. Because he never _remembers_ anything.

And Scott curses himself for letting it happen again.

And Alan will wake up in the morning, in his own bed, completely oblivious except for the fact that he is no longer on the floor, but that is just normal with four older brothers around to look out for him.

And what’s more, the sun will be shining, and his head will be clear.

And he’ll be able to see the world for what it is.

And he’ll be happy.


End file.
